


R is for Rage

by scarletmanuka



Series: V/V Alphabet Challenge [18]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 02:56:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7740688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletmanuka/pseuds/scarletmanuka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Dazeventura6, who wanted some angst</p>
    </blockquote>





	R is for Rage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dazeventura6](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazeventura6/gifts).



> For Dazeventura6, who wanted some angst

Clerks, guards, and casual bystanders scurried from the path of the Commander of the City Watch as he stalked his way through the corridors of the Patrician’s Palace. His face was a thundercloud and he was shaking with rage. He pushed past Drumknott, ignoring the secretary’s pleas, and slammed the doors to the Oblong Office open. They crashed against the walls, and rebounded inwards, only to be thrown back again. 

Seated around the small conference table were several of the guild heads, and the Patrician himself. Vetinari looked up, a mild expression on his face as he surveyed the cloud of plaster that was settling around the doorway, and the towering rage that encompassed Vimes.

“I think that about draws this meeting to a close, ladies and gentleman,” he said to those gathered around the table. “Drumknott will be in touch with you if I require anything else.”

Looking universally happy to be escaping the room, the heads hurried from the room, leaving the two most powerful men in the city alone. “Tea?” Vetinari asked, once the door had closed. He crossed to a small table against the wall and picked up the pot.   
“Tea?” Vimes spluttered. “ _ Tea? _ You almost get Cheery killed and you asked about bloody  _ tea _ ?”

“Ah, how is Corporal Littlebottom? Recovering well?” The tall man carried his cup back to his desk and sat, surveying Vimes over the rim.

“No she’s  _ not _ bloody well. She’s injured, and could have been killed, and  _ it’s your fault! _ ” Vimes all but yelled. His face was bright red, and he was breathing hard.

“As sorry as I am to hear that the corporal has been injured, those are the risks of the job, wouldn’t you say? She was the best qualified to assess the situation, having the most scientific background, and in your absence, I advised Captain Carrot to send her in.”

“And he’s an absolute mess now, no thanks to you!”

“Really, Commander, if he is unable to deal with making such decisions, then perhaps he isn’t fit to be a captain?”

“Carrot is more than bloody qualified to be a Captain, and you know it. The fact of the matter is, he  _ didn’t _ make the decision,  _ you _ did. He sent her in, against his better judgement, because you ordered him to, and now Cheery might lose her sight.”

Vetinari continued to watch him with a steady gaze. “I really don’t see what the issue is here, Commander. Incidents such as these happen, which is regrettable, but unavoidable. In attempting to disarm the device, Corporal Littlebottom saved the lives of many.”  _ And allowed my men to apprehend the leaders who were threatening your family  _ he said in his head. Due to the ongoing nature of the interrogation, he was unable to explain the full situation to Vimes. Until he was absolutely sure there was no further threat to young Sam, or the man himself, Vetinari would keep it from him. If he revealed anything, Vimes would take it upon himself to intervene, hence putting himself in the path of the very harm the Patrician was trying to so hard to keep from him. Since the death of his wife, there had been no reasoning with Vimes when it came to the safety of his family. Vetinari would do all he could to ensure that young Sam continued to have one living parent.

“You don't get to make those sorts of decisions about my men!” the Commander yelled, slamming his hands down on the desk.

“Sir Samuel, you are crossing the line. I must insist that you calm down.”

Vimes stood up, and let out a bark of laughter. “Calm down?  _ Calm down _ ? You really expect me to see one of my people almost get killed and be bloody calm about it? You’ve got to be joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

Vimes snorted. ‘Oh, pardon me. Only humans joke, and you left every ounce of humanity behind you long ago.” 

Vetinari felt like he had been punched in the stomach, but fought to keep it from his face. If only Vimes knew what was at stake. 

“You know what, I have to go,” Vimes said, shaking his head. “I have an officer to check up on, and a crime to investigate.” He stalked across the office to the door.

“Sam?” Vetinari’s voice was soft. “Will I still see you tonight?”

Vimes turned back with a glare. “Unless I have to stand in this office to give you a report, I never want to see you again.  _ Sir _ .” He slammed the door closed as he left.

Keeping very still, Vetinari stared at the closed door for a long time. Sam’s words echoed in his head, and he felt a sharp pain in his chest. After a while he cleared his throat, and rang the bell for Drumknott.

“My lord?” the clerk asked as he entered.

“Can you please clear my schedule for the remainder of the day, Drumknott? I’m not feeling the best, and I’m going to retire for the day.” 

Concern washed over his secretary’s face, but the man only nodded. “Certainly, my lord.”

The door was closed, much more gently this time, and Vetinari stood. He crossed to the back wall and found the spot on the panel that looked exactly like all the other spots around it. Pressing against it, a door swung open and he stepped into the hidden passageway. He made his way through the dark until he reached his bedroom, and he carefully folded his robe and put it away. Then he climbed into bed, and pulled his pillow to him, inhaling the scent of his lover that still lingered as he sobbed himself to sleep.

 

*************************************************************************************************************

 

The next morning Cheery lay dozing on the bed in the infirmary, her head mostly obscured by a large bandage. Vimes sat in a chair and watched as Igor bustled about, checking on his patient. He had managed a couple of hours sleep, but his eyes felt sandy and he was craving a coffee.

“It lookth like she will make a full recothery, thir. Though, if you’d allowed me, I could have given her thome much better eyeths.” He gave a slightly lopsided reproachful look.

“Her own eyes are just fine, Igor. But thank you for doing such a good job saving them.”

“Anytime, thir.” He bustled out, leaving Vimes alone with the slumbering dwarf. 

It wasn’t much later that there was a tap at the door and Carrot stuck his head in. “A word, sir?”

Vimes met the captain in the corridor and closed the door gently. “What do you have?” he asked.

“Angua and Sally followed the trail into the Shades. It appears the man who set the device was just a lackey - they found his body in an abandoned house there. Angua picked up the scent of another two men there, and followed it for some time but lost it soon after.”

“Where did they lose it?”

“Near the docks - it got all mixed up with the scents of other people and they thought it traced to some of the back streets behind the palace, but couldn’t say for sure.”

His head snapped up. “The Palace?”

“Yes, sir.”

Vimes swore. “What the bloody hell is that manipulative bastard up to?”

“Who, sir?”

“Vetinari, who else? I should have known he’d have his sticky bloody fingers all over this. I’m going to punch him in his stupid face next time I see him,” he fumed. 

“What do you think is going on?”

He rubbed at his face. “That’s the problem - I don’t know! If Vetinari is involved, then it’s be a bigger mess than we think it is. Urgh, why can’t he keep his pointed fucking nose out of things that don’t concern him?”

Carrot chose not to answer. “What do you want me to do?” he asked instead.

“Just keep on it. We need as many officers on the street as possible. Ask questions, push buttons, leave no stone unturned.”

Carrot snapped off a salute, and left, and Vimes headed to his office. He slumped into his chair, and swiveled around until he was looking out the window. In the distance was the palace, and he felt the rage well up again. 

He should have known that it would only have been a matter of time before Vetinari used their relationship as leverage in such a situation. It wasn’t overt - the manipulation was much more subtle than it had ever been, but it was manipulation all the same. Vetinari needed Vimes to act and do things a certain way, and he used any means possible to pull those strings. And now Cheery had been hurt, and if Vimes hadn’t dropped his guard, he may have been able to avoid it.

Of course, getting into a relationship with your boss was never a good idea. He could kick himself for allowing it to continue. But should he cut himself some slack? He had been so lonely and isolated since Sybil had died, and things had just naturally occurred between himself and Havelock. It had been so nice to have someone to just talk to after so long. He hadn’t realised that they’d been spending so much time together and how natural it felt until the night he’d found himself kissing Vetinari. And even though the sex was good ( _ don’t lie to yourself  _ he said internally,  _ the sex was fantastic _ ) it was even better waking up with someone.

He felt a pang as he thought about the words he’d thrown out in anger. He’d all but called the man a monster, and he felt guilt writhe through him. Vetinari could be ruthless, and cold, but he was underneath all that, very, very human. He had confided in Sam that he worried he had allowed the role of heartless dictator to take over his own sense of self - he was terrified of losing his humanity. And Sam had used that knowledge in anger to cause the man as much pain as possible. Was he then just as guilty of using their personal relationship in this situation as Havelock? He had a horrible suspicion that he had. But had he just been reacting to the situation? If Vetinari hadn’t don’t what he’d done, then Sam wouldn’t have said those words.

He sighed, and pulled out a cigar. Of course their relationship couldn’t last. Their jobs were so intertwined that it had been inevitable that something like this would occur. It was for the best really, that they made a clean break of it.  _ But it wasn’t clean, _ his conscience told him.  _ You fought dirty. Didn’t you see his heart break? _

“It’s better this way!” he growled out loud, biting hard on the end of his cigar. He continued to tell himself that for the whole day, but as he fell asleep that night, the cold bed next to him told a different story.

 

*************************************************************************************************************

 

Drumknott watched the Patrician out of the corner of his eye as he lay the tea tray down on the desk. He poured a cup, noticing the dark circles under the man’s eyes, and his listless manner. He didn't even acknowledge the hot beverage that was placed in front of him, and Vetinari  _ always _ said thank you. His manners were impeccable.

The clerk went back to his own desk in the sitting room, and sat down to think. He was a quiet man, and very observant, and although they had been very careful about it, he had known for a long time that the Patrician and the Commander of the Watch were in a relationship.

Rufus Drumknott had been in love with Vetinari since just after he started working at the Palace. It had broken his heart when he discovered that the object of his affection had found comfort in the arms of another. But he was also a very practical man. He had known that his feelings would never be returned and he had reconciled with himself that it would always be a one-sided affair. He had noticed though how much happier Vetinari had been since his relationship with Vimes. He was not quite as sombre, and smiled a little more often than before. As much as Drumknott would have liked to have been the cause of the smiles, he couldn’t deny that he was happy to see Vetinari happy. 

And yet now the man was miserable. Of course Drumknott was aware of why. He had heard the Commander’s side of the conversation as it was shouted at Vetinari. The clerk was also well aware of the  _ actual _ situation, since he had been running meals down to the two men currently being held in the cells. He knew that Vimes had overreacted, but knowing that wasn’t going to help the situation. Both men were so stubborn and headstrong that he couldn’t see them reconciling on their own. They would both rather mope about in misery than admit that they had both been wrong.

He stood up, having come to a decision. He was going to do something about it. It would be drastic, and it could backfire horribly, but there was only one way to deal with 

Half an hour later he was being shown into Vimes’ office, and he saw the twitch of the eyebrows as he entered. He could practically read the man’s thoughts - Vimes assumed that the clerk was being used as a messenger and was fuming already. Drumknott held up a hand, “Can I firstly say, Commander, that the Patrician does not know I am here.”

Vimes grunted and sat, waving to the chair in front of his desk. “Then what’s this about?”

Drumknott remained standing, throwing the Commander’s tactic back in his face. “I’m here to tell you that you’re being a stubborn git, and you need to swallow your damn pride and make things right with Vetinari. This lover’s spat of yours isn’t just hampering your investigation, but is having serious consequences for the city. You need to bloody well do something about it.”

Vimes’ eyes bulged, not only at the revelation that their relationship was known, but at the normally timid man’s demeanour. He managed to pull himself together. “I beg your pardon?” he snapped, falling back on authority, and his glare.

“You’re not deaf, or dumb, Commander. You heard me.”

“How dare you come in here and spout this bullshit about-”

“It’s  _ not _ bullshit, and you know it.”

He stood from his desk and rounded it so he could better get in the little upstart’s face. “Listen here, Drumknott. You may think you know what you’re talking about, but you really don’t. You are on dangerous ground here, lad.”

“Not as dangerous as you’ll be if you don’t man up and do something about this!” Drumknott was beet red, and breathing hard from being so forthright, but he knew he was doing the right thing.

Vimes felt a grudging respect for the blonde man. There weren’t many who could hold their ground when going toe to toe with him. He couldn’t allow that to remain. “This is none of your damn business,  _ boy.  _ Now run back along to your paperwork and calendars and leave the real world to the adults.” 

Something in Drumknott’s expression hardened, and before he knew what he was doing, his hand had formed a fist, and he was swinging it at Vimes’ face. It landed square on the jaw, and the clerk leapt back, howling in pain. Vimes shook his head, clearing the stars that were beginning to circle. He rubbed at his jaw as he watched the clerk cradle his hand, and then he threw his head back and laughed. He went to the door and called for an ice pack and once it had arrived he guided the young man to the chair and sat him down, putting the pack on his hand. “You’re lucky you didn’t break it,” he noted.

“I’ve never punched anyone before. Why does no one mention how much it hurts?”

“Because that would ruin the effect.” He sighed, and then looked at the clerk, pain in his eyes. “How bad is he?”

Drumknott glared. “He’s not eating, and not sleeping. He’s letting the guilds walk all over him, and I’m worried he’s going to do something stupid and get himself hurt.”

“Pfft, nothing could hurt Vetinari.”

“You did.”

Vimes winced. “Okay, you got me there.” He rubbed at his eyes. “Look, you’re a smart man, so you’ve obviously figured some things out. But you don’t know the whole story. You don’t know what he did.”

“He was trying to keep your son safe!” A hand flew up to Drumknott’s mouth as he realised what he’d blurted out.

“What do you mean by that?” Vimes demanded. His tone was such that the clerk could not refuse an answer.

“The Patrician discovered a plot to kill you and your son using a new type of explosive device. They had to test it first though, which is what was discovered two days ago.They were watching as Corporal Littlebottom was trying to disarm the explosive device, so they could determine what the weaknesses were so they could fix them before they targeted you. Vetinari took advantage of their distraction to have his dark clerks apprehend them during this time and he has been interrogating them to discover if anyone else is involved.”

“They were going to try and kill my son?” His voice was hoarse.

Drumknott nodded. “Vetinari wanted to ensure that he had caught them all before he told you so you wouldn’t put yourself in danger.”

Vimes closed his eyes. “Shit.”

“Please, sir, I’m worried about him. I’ve not seen him this...disconnected before.”

“As if he wasn’t even human,” Vimes whispered in a broken voice. His stomach rolled as he realised what a fool he had been, and just how much he had hurt the man he loved. He opened his eyes and pinned Drumknott with a glare. “Does anyone else know about this?”

The blonde man shook his head.

“Okay, let’s go back to the palace.”

Relief flooding through him, Drumknott jumped to his feet, the elation he felt at knowing his plan had worked dulling the throbbing in his hand. With Vimes on his heels, he hurried back to the palace, eager to get it all sorted. They arrived back to find the Oblong Office deserted.

“Did he have an appointment?” Vimes asked, looking around the empty room.

The clerk’s heart stopped for a moment. “The cells,” he said on a hunch, but knowing it would be correct.

Vimes swore, and darted out of the office, his feet pounding on the stone floors as he hurried down to the cells. The main door was open, and the guards had been dismissed. He skidded to a halt to find Vetinari inside one of the cells. The current occupant was laying in a bloody heap on the floor, the Patrician crouched over him, landing blow after blow on the man. “Who else was working with you?” he was demanding, over and over.

“I told you, there was no one else!” a second man, locked in the cell next door yelled. His hands were gripping the bars tightly as he watched his companion being beaten to death.

Another blow, and another. “Who else was working with you? Who else wants Samuel Vimes and his boy dead?”

“Please, stop! It was just me and my brother, I swear. Please! You’re killing him!”

Vimes rushed into the open cell and pulled Vetinari from the man. He didn’t struggle, just slumped against the strong arms that were pinning his own. Drumknott came in, and surveyed the scene. “I’ll call for Igor,” he said. “Take care of him?”

Vimes nodded, and led Vetinari to the corridor outside. As soon as they were out of view from the prisoners, he scooped the man into his arms and carried him upstairs, heading for the sleeping quarters. The Patrician was limp in his arms, and Sam was shocked to see how gaunt he looked, after only two days. They reached his bedroom, and Sam lay the man down gently on the bed.

“Havelock?” he asked, taking his bloodied and bruised hand in his.

Glazed eyes met his, but there was no other indication that he had heard him.

“I’m so sorry,” Sam said, his voice broken. “I should have trusted you. I’m so sorry for the things I said.” He buried his face into the dusky black shirt and sobbed, realising fully the lengths Vetinari had gone to to keep him and young Sam safe. After a few minutes, he felt a hand in his hair and he looked up to see clear blue eyes looking at him.

“Sam?” The voice was hesitant, unsure.

“Oh Gods, I’m so sorry, Havelock. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“Are you really here?”

He nodded, and wiped at his eyes. “Yes, I am.”

“I missed you. I was so alone.”

Sam pressed kisses to Havelock’s face. “I’m so sorry. I’m never going anywhere again. I promise.” He climbed onto the bed, and wrapped his lover in his arms, holding him close. “I’m here.”

Vetinari leaned his head against Vimes’ chest, and closed his eyes, exhaustion washing over him. Just before he drifted off to sleep, he looked up to see Drumknott in the doorway. The clerk smiled, and then softly shut the door behind him. 

  
  



End file.
